Cartridge
by LovelyFangirls
Summary: Demons are usually looking for a good sense of blasphemy, what better then two demon buddies deciding to get themselves a couple of angels. An heir born of demon and angel? Ooh sweet sickness. Falling in love however, that was never part of the plan, especially with a male. Males can't give Dean what he needs. Demon!Dean/Angel!Cas M for gore, violence, sex, language. Note:NOT MPreg
1. Prologue

Prologue 

You fickle human.

Dean grinned as he watched the human struggle in his grasp. He had it by the hair, watching the creature fight to get free, pulling its own hair out when its fingers tangled as it fought him. Dean chuckled, kicking it back down onto its knees. "Let's try this again shall we?"

It was like a sick game of cat and mouse, but between a demon and human. It was the same thing; humans were lowly creatures incapable of defending themselves. He pulled hard on its head once more. "Where are they? Where are the hunters?"

It spoke, tears running down its face horridly, "I-I don't know…"

Another harsh pull left the creature screaming in agony, grabbing at its head only to pull back fingers covered in blood; pulling out the hair slowly can bring pieces of the scalp with it. Dean watched with sick fascination as blood dripped down its nose. This female was pathetic, screaming over a small flesh wound that any demon could withstand with hardly any effort.

"Don't lie to me, filth," he spat.

It let out a low, pain-filled scoff, "You're the only filthy thing here, demon!"

Dean pulled again, watching with giddy pleasure when skin started to tear at the top, revealing a the small bit of white beneath the veins, probably its skull. It screamed again, writhing beneath him. "I won't ask again," he warned, using his free hand to poke at the flesh beneath where he'd torn, enjoying its pitiful cries as he dug in with enjoyment.

It sobbed, snot and tears making its face actually look slimy. It was disgusting. "The… the bend..." it wept.

"The bend? What of it?"

"There… there's a hut built inside it…" Dust from the walls floated into her scalp, stinging with every microscopic touch. "Dear God…" it begged, vainly trying to keep the dust away.

"No God here, sweetheart, only us demons."

"…Where...Wherever there is evil…there must also be good…"

Dean scowled with disgust, pulling on the creature's hair with full force, ripping off the entire top of its head. The screaming was too loud to enjoy, even for a demon. The way it mewled and kicked, trying to grab its head in pain but only hurting more every time its fingers came into contact with the scalp.

"OH GOD!" it begged.

He let it scream for a moment. He let it suffer for what would have felt like an eternity before capturing its chin within his hand. "Didn't I tell you? God's not listening."

With a swift kick, the tip of his boot made contact near its spleen. He waited until her mouth opened, her tongue shooting forward the way any good body is designed to. Quickly, he ducked his head, grabbing the tongue firmly between his teeth despite the creature's struggling, and bit down into the flesh. He grinned, its flesh between his teeth, and pulled.

He left the chamber with a satisfied chuckle, his back to the creature that rolled over the floor, screaming words that he couldn't make out thanks to the loss of its speech. He grinned as he shut the door, loving the way it stared absently at its own tongue, spewing blood on the floor in front of its eyes.

"Dean?" greeted a familiar voice.

Dean turned, smiling when he was met with an old friend. "Benny," he chuckled, "Good to see you."

He watched as his hunting companion peeked behind his back, through the bars, and into the cell, "Yeesh, you sure messed her up didn't you?" he frowned.

"It."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Always refer to prey as an 'it'.It's an old hunter's technique. Its harder to kill something that you give any mind to. I can kill 'it' anyday, but Satan knows a little bitch like yourself couldn't do it if you were attached."

"Nothing wrong with getting attached to your things." he retorted, grinning devilishly as he nodded his head towards the vampire Dean had stared at before.

"There is if you're a proper hunter."

Benny shook his head with a smile, "You'll never change will you?"

"Better not," Dean replied, a large grin on his face as he wiped the girl's blood off his mouth and then onto his jeans. "I'm too good at what I do." He gestured his head in Benny's direction. "So where've you been lately?"

"Hunting."

Dean smirked, "What was it today?"

"A bride."

Dean did a double take, staring at Benny with confusion, "A bride? What in the world would you need one of those for?"

"I want an heir." He grinned, shoving his fists into his pockets.

Benny was a spontaneous person. A determined spontaneous person. The mix meant that if ever he wanted something, he took it. If he had a crazy plan, it happened. Dean remembered on Halloween when Benny thought it would be a good idea to roam topside… In the end, they hooked up with a couple girls who nagged about how they wouldn't take their "contacts" out.

If this crazy idea was anything like his previous ones, there was no getting out of it. Dean folded his arms over his chest, a disbelieving smirk on his face. "An heir? Like a son?"

"Something like that…"

"What are you planning to breed with?"

Benny took a look around them, as if checking to be sure that no one could listen in. He leaned closer to Dean, a shit-eating grin spread over his cheeks. "An angel."

Dean frowned. "An angel?! You're kidding right?"

"Think about it!" Benny laughed, his eyes wide with excitement, "A demon breeding with an angel! The sweet taste of ultimate blasphemy! And..." He grinned. "Think of the heir that could come from it!"

Dean was still unsure about this…but Benny did have good points. That sort of blasphemy would surely make him famous among the demons, and an heir like that would certainly be powerful. He didn't know if Lucifer would approve though…seeing as the angels were his former family.

"Have you run it by the big man?"

"Who, little old Lucy? He'll jump at the idea!" He grinned, knowing full well he was lying to himself. "He created us for crazy shitanyway, so it isn't as if-"

"Wait, wait, wait…us?" Dean glared, "Since when is it 'us?'"

"Well, I figured you'd be all for the idea, so I took the liberty of hunting you an angel of your own." He grinned. "They were quite a bit of trouble to catch though…so you'd damn well better take it."

Dean scowled with betrayal, "Why you son of a-!"

"You know just as well as me, angels are a rare catch. Now do you want the damned thing or not?" he glared.


	2. Foolish Pride

Now, Dean was no fool. He'd been on an angel hunt with Benny before, and was well aware of the troubles that went along with catching one, but that angel had been someone that his brother wanted for his research. His brother, Sam, was a scientist in their little underworld and was responsible for researching different species so that it would be easier for the foot soldiers of the ranks to hunt them. A lot of people thought demons were reckless, petty creatures… which was mostly true. That's why these systems were developed by a very special demon. Alastair, the original demon city founder.

Dean cringed every time he thought of the man. His torture methods went past Dean's own, making Dean inferior, and in some ways a little frightened.

The hunt he'd accompanied Benny on took three hours. No exaggeration, nothing blown out of proportion; it had taken what felt like a lifetime. The first hour was spent searching for signs of a heavenly being. They looked for miracles, demons with their eyes burnt out, sigils, blood, sometimes feathers if they were lucky.

The last two, catching up with it, fighting it, and ultimately catching it.. then, of course, there was always the tedious task of getting it back in one piece...

* * *

"Shut up a sec." Benny frowned, holding up an arm when Dean continued forward behind him. "You smell that?" he asked, sniffing the air as he did so.

"Not all of us have a super nose, dickhead." Dean groaned, rolling his eyes.

Benny inched forward. They were in a diner littered with bodies. The place was a demon skunk nest, full of the tough-tag, rugged guys who weren't afraid to pick a fight with a powerful enemy. "Stupid bastards…" Benny chuckled, stepping over a corpse with crisp, burnt eye sockets. "There." He pointed accusingly after another sniff of the air. "That'll be it."

Dean crouched in front of a couple small puddles of blood, sticking his finger right in the middle of one before pulling it up to his mouth. "Yeah, that's angel's blood all right."

"Best superpower a guy could have," he grinned with pride, continuing into the little room behind the counter, angel blade in hand.

Dean stayed behind, watching him closely as he entered. He pulled the net from the hook on his hip and held it tightly. The rope was doused in holy oil and, while the smell put him off, wasn't harmful to demons. He ran his thumb over it as he came up to the door, peeking through the small, circular window at its top as he licked his lips with anticipation.

The loud clanking was his signal to enter, where he found Benny face to face with the angel. Before he had time to see Dean, he tossed the net. "Holy oil, bitch!" he yelled with triumph.

The angel growled angrily before lunging forward for Benny, the net still draped over him as he spread out his wings to fly up. The rope barely helped to slow his flight as he lifted Benny up to ceiling, slamming his head against the top with brute force. "Son of a bitch!" Dean cried, jumping to catch it's foot. Benny, after getting over the initial shock of being flung against the ceiling, stabbed the angel, blade digging into his upper arm.

The angel cried out before dropping him to the floor and grabbing at his arm. Dean held on tightly when the angel tried to kick him off. Benny rose quickly, leaping off the ground to pull on the rope, dragging the angel back to earth. "We got him now!" He hollered.

Dean reached back into his pocket when the angel started to struggle violently. "These ropes are covered in holy oil." he explained, getting his attention, "Quit struggling, or I light it."

Benny grinned smugly. "You got the cuffs?"

Dean tossed him the leather binds from where they hung on his belt. They had special sigils carved into the material, which made angels powerless. With his body bound, it would be difficult to dart out, and simply poofing out wouldn't be happening any time soon once they'd slapped the sigils over his wrists. Benny cuffed the angel's hands behind his back and shoved the key into his bag. Benny watched skeptically as the angel eyed his bag with heavy scheming. "What do you filthy creatures want?" he cursed, glaring them both down hard.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean ordered, shifting the rope so that it only covered the angel's wings.

The angel chuckled, "How like a demon. Can't even make a little conversation, and every other word is bitch," he scoffed, "You disgust me."

Dean crouched in front of the guy as Benny forced him onto his knees. He grinned sadistically, "Bitch. Don't act so high and mighty." He stood with pride.

The angel half-screamed when Dean kicked his arm, slapping his arm away when he reached for it and grabbing the angel's neck. "Us disgusting creatures are now your masters."

"No demon is a master of mine."

Dean grinned with malicious intent, taking the blade into his hand, swirling it around playfully. He smiled to himself when the angel's eyes became laced with fear. He took the blade close to his face. "Unfortunately, I can't harm any vital organs, but a minor shave would to you good." he grinned.

Benny held out a hand to pause him, but Dean has already started cutting the blade into his cheek. "Jesus, Dean. Sam needs him intact."

Dean blocked Benny out, listening to the angel gripe with pain. He leaned forward to lick blood off his chin, smiling before he licked his lips. "Tasty." his grin faded into a serious frown, "Name?"

"What does it matter?" the angel spat, glaring up at the demon.

He smirked, "I don't care, but your new master likes to get a little friendly with his 'patients' one could say. It's for his benefit."

"Why should I concern myself with the benefits of a demon?"

Dean stood from where he was crouched, kicking the angel over with a boot to the face. "Because I own you."

From where he lay, the angel scowled up at him, "Gabriel."

Angels were hard to catch, but Dean was the best at what he did-hunting. He drew himself back. "See? You're not so tough."

"Shut up, Dean." Benny frowned, shaking his head. "Your pride will get you into trouble one day," he warned, pulling the angel onto his feet before heading out to the front. "You best be careful now."

Dean scoffed. He'd just caught an angel! The toughest and proudest hunting trophy a demon could obtain. He smiled to himself happily.

* * *

Now here he was, tapping his foot impatiently against the stone floor of the hallway he stood in. He was waiting in the dungeon buried beneath Benny's house. He kept everything that wasn't a guest down there, from enemies to pets, prey to predators. Dean glanced into the cage beside him. There was a zebra, stripes well groomed and glistening. The vampire in the next cell was similar, well fed, groomed, and enticing to the eye. Dean grinned at the girl, who turned her eyes away from him. She was indeed well kept. Benny may have been a demon, but he took pride in his trophies.

Finally, he heard the familiar metallic clank of cage bars. Out came Benny, a rope in his hand and a proud gleam on his face. At the other end of the rope were cuffs carved with sigils to trap the angel that followed. The wrists were fragile, but not terrible. Dean let his eyes travel upward, revealing a rugged...man.

It threw Dean for a loop. A man? It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the company of men any less than woman, but a bride would have meant woman. Any moron could tell you that men can't produce heirs.

"What the hell Benny?!" Dean growled, his black eyes twisted and angry.

"Calm down. It's a guy, so what?"

The angel kept his eyes trained on the ground, refusing to look either of them in the eye. "So…" Dean snarked, "What's the point of something that can't get pregnant?! Doesn't that defeat the entire purpose?"

Benny gestured toward the creature in question. "But he's cute right?"

Dean stared over to the angel. His hair was a mess, and his clothes were too heavy and thick. He wasn't all that attractive, honestly. His wings were tied with a another sigiled band behind his back, probably Benny's doing. He looked weak and helpless. Not exactly Dean's type.

"Pitiful…"

The angel glared at the ground harder.

Benny pulled the rope closer, forcing the angel to take a step forward, "Hey," he ordered, "Look at your master."

"No one here is my master," the angel informed, raising his head proudly.

The angel's piercing blue eyes made Dean's stomach sick. They were too proud, too bright. They needed to be dimmed and frightened. To know their place.

Dean cocked his head with respect anyway. Even bound with angel-proof sigils, this guy had spoken against those who were obviously more powerful. He either had guts, or he was stupid. "Name?" Dean questioned.

The angel frowned at him. "Castiel. Angel of Thursday."

Benny smiled, "See? Already getting along!"

"I can't take him if he's useless Benny!"

The demon shrugged. "You want a different one then? These things are hard as hell to catch you know! There weren't even any girls around when I got this one."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I need a girl for a bride, dickbrain."

"A bride?" the angel questioned.

"Shut up, maggot." Dean reached forward with intense rage, grasping a fistful of fabric and pulling the angel onto its toes. "You'll speak when spoken to."

"What does a demon want a bride for?" he mocked, thankful this man was taller than him, and he didn't have to be lifted off the ground. "It's not like you creatures can fall in love..."

"I said shut up!" he barked, forcing his knee hard into the angel's gut, smiling when Castiel grunted.

"I don't have another girl, Dean… but I'll bet there's magic for this type of thing somewhere. We can make it work," he explained, shoving the leash into Dean's hand.

"Fine," he growled, "But if this shit pees on my floor, I'm calling your ass over to clean it up."

"How vulgar…" Castiel sneered.

"You looking to get kicked again?" the demon questioned, yanking the rope down and forcing the angel onto its knees. "I'm not a patient guy."

Castiel didn't reply, he understood his position.

"Good boy," Dean praised, grinning with triumph.


	3. Fighting with my Soul

Dean led the angel inside of his humble abode, not caring that the floor was littered with beer bottles and old cigarette butts. Castiel turned his head back to the door at the sound of a click, only to see the demon slip a key into his pocket. Dean took the cuffs in hand, breaking the chain that held them together, creating two sigil bracelets on either wrist. "There," he spoke, proud of his handy work. "Now you can roam."

His home was on the smaller side, but the limited amount of furniture made it look bigger. The door opened to wooden floors with a living area as well as a kitchen to the right. There was no counter to separate the rooms, just a table littered with Mason jars.

In the front was a massive wall of glass, creating a window that overlooked the demon city. Dean watched with curiosity as Castiel rounded the large sofa that sat in front of it, staring out into the mass of buildings, the pitch black sky making him uneasy. It had its own beauty to it, make no mistake. A dark and metallic beauty. But the city had no ceiling trapping it like he'd imagined. It wasn't just a safe buried beneath the earth; Hell's city was darkness that engulfed any material. The way Castiel stared at it made Dean pause. He remembered doing that once, to just wonder what was up in the darkness above them. Maybe it would swoop down and swallow them all whole. The angel sort of reminded him of himself….

He shook the thought away. "You can sleep on the couch. I don't have another bedroom."

It sounded like a softer sentence to Castiel, and he took it in gladly. "Thank you."

Dean frowned, realizing himself that it had been kinder than he'd intended. "It's that or the floor, pet."

Castiel nodded, sitting himself down on the leathery material before taking off his coat. Dean watched him drape the raggedy thing over himself like a blanket before lying on his side, probably still gazing out the window.

"I'll be waking you early," Dean snarled, turning on his heel before heading towards his own bedroom.

Castiel waited until he heard a door slam before clenching the coat closer to himself. A life as the pet of a demon, or rather 'the bride' of one. How was he supposed to be a bride? The demon had said it himself, he was useless…. At least he was alive. If he was truly useless, they would have killed him, wouldn't they?

Castiel stared up at the dark sky. It was as black as a demon's soul, and deeper than any ocean. Nothing but deep darkness, held in a cartridge of sin. It was demonic, and it made him feel sick.

He didn't need to sleep. Angels never did, but he felt tired and weak, and just wanted to shut his eyes. He wanted to shut out the demon city and all the problems that came with it.

What was he supposed to do now?

* * *

Dean glared at his alarm when it screamed at him. He slammed the top down with his hand before rubbing his eyes. Morning, huh? He peeked through his window, knowing perfectly well what he'd see.

"Hey, angel. Get up," he ordered, shoving its arm roughly.

"My name is Castiel…" he replied, rolling over to face the demon.

"I don't care," Dean snarled, "Get up when I say to."

Castiel frowned. "It's still dark outside…"

Dean let out a low chuckle before rounding the couch on his way to the kitchen. "Get used to it, sweetheart. It's always like that."

The angel swung his head around slowly, staring out once again. It was always that way? "You mean, there's never any form of light down here?" he asked with despair.

"Only the light we make ourselves. Usually fire though," he muttered, turning to watch the angel struggle in his seat, probably trying to stretch his wings, "There aren't exactly any angelic light beams down here."

Castiel frowned when he no longer had the power to use his wings, holding up his bracelets, only to mentally curse them. No angelic powers. "Is that why so many demons try to take bodies on the surface?"

Dean frowned. "Shut up and get over here if you want to eat."

"I don't need to eat…"

"You do with those sigils on. No angelic powers means you're human down here, bud."

Castiel frowned, cursing his cuffs once more. His wings were uncomfortable, but he couldn't do anything about it. Cautiously, he stood, making his way over to the small kitchen area. What would the demon even have that he could eat? It wasn't as if the demons needed to eat either… and if they did…

"Here," Dean barked, holding out a jar.

The jar glowed with a brilliant blue, its contents moving like waves. It was beautiful, but contained. Castiel cringed. "I can't eat a soul!"

"That's all I got," the demon grinned, opening a jar for himself before scooping pieces out into his hand. It looked like gel. "Eat it or starve."

Castiel watched in horror as the demon shoved it into his mouth, smacking his lips with pride.

"I'd rather starve! That's a human soul!"

"Duh. Where else would you get one?"

"You're a monster.." Castiel muttered, his hands in fists at his sides.

Dean grinned before bowing his head slightly. "Demon, sweetheart." He was starting to enjoy this.

Castiel turned violently, taking his jar with him before plopping himself down on the couch once more. Dean wiped his mouth of the blue gruel before shouting back, "If you're not gonna eat it, put it back in the fridge."

"No."

Frowning, Dean tried again, "You'd better listen to me."

"Or what?"

He was angry now, stomping his way over to the angel before slamming his hands on the back of the couch; at either side of Castiel's head. He watched the angel jump back with fright, staring up at him.

"Now listen here," he growled, "You belong to me. That means you do as I say, when I say."

Castiel noticed the way the demon's eyes became even blacker as he snarled, but held the jar close to his chest. "A soul is to be protected! It's not to be coveted!"

"That may be how it works up in the clouds, but down here they're for eating."

Castiel glanced at the jar once more. "Can I at least keep this one?" he begged, looking up at the demon with pleading eyes.

"What for?!" He Griped.

The angel exchanged glances from the jar to the demon multiple times before finally deciding to speak, "...A demon wouldn't understand.."

Dean should have beaten the angel. He should have made sure he knew what place he held in the food chain, but he just felt drained. Dean knew he wouldn't have felt any pleasure in hurting the angel at that moment. That thought alone bugged him.

Dean looked down at him again with a scowl, taking note of the way he begged to keep it, like it was something precious. He should have said no. That was what a master would do. "Damn it! Fine. Keep the stupid thing. It's not like I could eat it now that your dirty hands have been all over it!" he barked, turning violently before stomping his way back to the kitchen. "Do whatever you want with it!"

Castiel smiled, holding his jar close happily. "Thank you…"

"Whatever." Dean replied, shoving his half-eaten jar back into the fridge. "I'm going out."

"W-where?"

"You'll starve if I don't get something else. The last thing I need in here is a dead angel." Dean growled, pulling on his coat angrily. He was upset with himself. "Don't pee on anything while I'm out."

"I don't have to-"

He shook his head with frustration, holding up a hand to silence the angel, "Remember, as long as you've got those bracelets on," he reminded, halfway out the door, "You're human. You need sleep, you need to eat, and you'll need to pee."

Castiel frowned. "...Thank you."

"Stop thanking me already," he growled, "It's annoying."

Castiel watched him slam the door shut. He sat on the floor, staring at his jar. At least he had someone to talk to now. He tapped the jar gingerly. "Hello," he greeted cautiously, trying not to frighten it, "Can you hear me?"


	4. Cruel Changes

Dean hated everything. The underworld the demons created wasn't far from a human's, since it was inspired by a human civilization; There were even'supermarkets'. The only real difference being that all the stock was generally meant for demons. A human would pop out for some milk or something, where as these stores were stocked with canned-souls, carnivorous pets and pet food, half of which included live meat.

Dean scowls when he passes by some of these things. They're like any other thing he would hunt, but smaller than entertaining prey. There were rabbits and snakes with their fangs removed, spiders and sparrows. All small, virtual nothings.

He ventured further down the pet food aisle, looking for human food. While humans were common pets, angels were an entire different matter, and he thanked Lucifer they ate similarly, since their vessels interlinked when an angel lost its powers.

Dean finally made it to his destination, eyeballing the small variety of foods. It was all simple food anyway, no need to be picky. He plucked something random off the shelf, reading its label and price. It seemed cheap. Bread must have been something common. He smirked: lowly food for a lowly creature. He gripped the plastic by the it's knot, making his way back to the check out. He dropped the bread over the counter wearily, fisting around in his pocket in search of some money. He never used it much, but it was necessary for markets. It was how they traded for food up top. Dean grinned when his fingers caught hold of a bill, shoving it onto the counter as the man stared at him.

"Human food eh?" he questioned, shoving the bill into a box before dropping a few coins back into Dean's hand. "You have a pet?"

"Is it your business?" he growled, just wanting to get home.

The man grunted, plucking a coin out of Dean's had before he could retract it. "It's early, obviously something's hungry." He grinned smugly, tossing the coin up in the air in front of Dean's face.

"On the contrary," Dean frowned, catching it mid-air, "He wouldn't eat what I gave him."

"Him?" the man asked, his smirk growing into a perverted, oily grin, "So not a pet?"

Dean glared at him before turning his back to leave, staring at the coin he'd caught, flipping it over a couple times. He'd called the angel a he… not an it…

The walk back wasn't far, and he figured the angel would be hungry by the time he got back. He thought it over a bit, realizing he couldn't remember the angel's name. He frowned. Why did he care what his name was? What its name was, he corrected himself.

He groaned with frustration. Today was turning out to be a crappy day.

* * *

Cas couldn't be more content than he was then, whispering to the jar in front of him. "How long have you been here?" he asked, watching as the blue orb within the jar glowed.

"...I couldn't say…" replied a voice, the orb swimming within the air in the jar. "...But it feels like forever…"

Cas rolled over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling from his position on the floor. "I won't let him eat you," he comforted.

The voice was silent for a moment, as if thinking. "...Why are you here?"

Cas turned his head to face the jar, holding up his wrists to show it the bracelets. "I'm a prisoner, or as he's calling me, a bride. He wants an heir, apparently."

"...I cannot see, but I can feel your presence... You are not a woman… nor are you with child…"

Cas nodded, letting his arms fall back to the floor. "I know." He let out a heavy sigh. "My sister, which the other captured, was female. That at least makes sense, but I do not understand his intentions for me…"

The orb floated into an oval, speeding up its movements to look like a whole shape before making a quick jab towards the bottom of the jar, creating a heart.

Cas stared at it before frowning. "He's a demon. Demons do not love."

"...and angels do not keep souls locked away…" it replied, slowing down back into its original blob of Aquarian light.

"I can't let you free… he'd be cross."

"...You care for his opinion?" The orb seemed to darken as it spoke this time, "You are a divine being are you not?"

Castiel let out a heavy sigh before lifting himself off the floor and staring back out the window. "Not without my powers..." He held up his wrists, glaring at the bracelets.

"Do you fear this demon?"

"Why should I?"

The soul gleamed with pleasure. "Then why not let me out? What do you have to fear?"

Cas stared back at the jar, as if contemplating before scooping it up into his hands. "Who are you?" he asked, curving his eyebrows as he studied it.

"I am a human, whose soul was taken from me. I am devil food, in every sense of the word."

"Who would I be saving if I let you out?" Castiel questioned, "Who are you?"

The orb's blue light flickered away before melting into a blazing red, making the jar too hot for Castiel to hold. He threw it, the glass breaking over the corner where carpet met wall, and shattering. The red soul emerged from the jar, seeming to grow as it gloomed down over Castiel's body. "You tried to trick me!" Castiel declared, frowning up at it.

"You have freed me, little helpless angel." The voice boomed. It was different now, deeper, more harsh and rugged. "To thank you, I will take over your body and free you from this place."

"No," he rejected, standing up as a wind picked up within the room, whipping around his coat and hair, the worn out tie flapping into his face.

The soul loomed over him, growing larger for every second it released itself. "You, pitiful as you are, would be honored to be taken by my soul. I used to be a king! I ruled valleys and lands beyond all wildest dreams!"

"Hey!" shouted a voice from behind them.

The angel spun around, only to see Dean, standing in front of the door, some form of demonic blade in his hand, a Mason jar in the other. "Come get me you big ugly freak!"

The blazing red mass surged over to him, gliding right over Castiel. Dean flipped the knife in his hand, the blade focused on a target. He shut his eyes as a agonizing roar neared him. He took in a deep breath before jumping, opening his eyes to slash above him with vigorous force, cutting a tagged tare right down it's center. It sounded confused, making muffled cries and whimpers as blue leaked from its wound, dripping down where dean was ready to catch with his jar.

It wasn't long before the soul shrieked, shrinking down until there was nothing left but the blue liquid that half-filled Dean's Mason jar. He screwed the lid shut tightly before slamming it down on the kitchen counter, hunching his shoulders as he hung his head with frustration and taking deep breaths.

Castiel stirred nervously. "...Thank y-"

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Dean yelled, his face nearly turning red as he took a few steps closer to him.

The angel staggered back a little bit. "I didn't-"

"You can't play with these souls you goddamn moron!"

Dean let out an irritated click of his tongue before briskly walking over to him.Castiel kept his head high, ready to take whatever the demon was about to give him. His eyes would have been a good match against Dean's stare, but he was powerless, and it had been his fault for messing with the soul. He found himself unable to keep eye contact and turned his head away. If he was lucky, he'd only get beaten, but Castiel had no angel strength to defend himself this time around. He quietly prayed God was still looking after him.

"...Did it hurt you?"

Castiel blinked with surprise, "...What?"

"I said," he started, grabbing one of Castiel's hands to examine, "Did it hurt you?"

"...N-no... it didn't have any time to... You..." He turned his head away. "You showed up before it had the chance."

Dean grunted in understanding, looking over to see the mass of broken glass on the floor, "These souls aren't good ones idiot. The only souls allowed in hell are the wicked. That's what we eat." He shook his head. "They'll try to trick you if it means they'll get free. Think next time."

"I'm sorry."

Dean frowned, dropping his hand suddenly. "Clean the mess up. You made it."

Castiel nodded, as Dean walked away, plonking himself down onto the couch before rubbing his temple. Cas tried to wrap his head around everything, as he carefully picked up the glass piece by piece, gingerly setting each shard into his palm. He'd never seen a soul like that up close before, and it made him wonder about what other horrors awaited him down in this hell hole. Thinking about it though, he found it out of behaviour for a demon to have saved him. Even more to be concerned. It was a little suspicious even. Was he up to something? Trying to win over Castiel's trust for some devilish reason?

He slowly made his way over to the kitchen, dumping the glass into the trash before staring at all the empty jars scattered over the counter. His stomach growled.

"There's bread on the counter," Dean grumbled, waving his hand over his head dismissively, "If you're hungry eat it."

"Thank you..."

Dean groaned, "I told you to stop saying that already…"

Castiel searched with his eyes until he found the loaf of bread resting in the middle of a few empty jars. Castiel frowned as he looked over the mess of a kitchen, opening the bag to take out a piece. The first bite of bread was a little dry, but he was hungry enough to not care, swallowing hard before hesitantly biting off another mouthful. All he could see was jars and beer bottles, a mess everywhere.

The other area, what he called the couch room, was perfectly clean, but the kitchen was dreadful. He frowned to himself before peeling another piece off the loaf. It shouldn't concern him, how messy the demon's home was.

Castiel took out another slice for himself before heading back to the couch, sitting on the far corner. There was silence for a long period of time as Castiel munched on his bread. They both just stared out the window, Cas taking a couple cautious glances over his shoulder at the demon when he could. "Need something?"

Castiel startled when he spoke, swallowing his bread the wrong way and coughing for a minute. "Ack! so- Keh! sorry..."

"Just breathe out," Dean told him calmly, "Just relax your shoulders and breathe out."

Castiel sucked in on accident before breathing out hard, pushing the bread back into his mouth. He shook his head. "T-thank you.."

Dean groaned, "Why do you keep saying that?"

"...Because you keep helping me…" Castiel replied, rubbing his throat soothingly.

Dean turned his head to face him. "Do I?"

Nodding, the angel shifted his face away, clasping the ends of his coat. Dean returned to leaning his head against the back of the couch, arms up on either side of him. Castiel shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "You know... the soul and I were talking…"

"Whatever that bastard said was probably bullshit. You shouldn't believe a word of it," he replied, letting his eyes fall shut calmly.

"Not all of it..."

Dean frowned, clenching his teeth, "What'd he say?"

"..."

"Hey," he tried again, more firmly, "What'd that shitface say?"

"...What use do you have for me if I'm a male?"

Dean's shoulders tensed a little. He'd sort of let that slip from his mind for a while. The guy was right, he really didn't know yet,but Benny had promised to look into it. There was probably some sort of shit magic to help them out, maybe something scientific? "That reminds me..." Dean said, ignoring his question for the moment, "My brother's coming over today… Damn it."

"Do you dislike your brother?"

Dean chuckled, "No. But he's a bit of a clean freak. You know, everything tidy and organized."

Castiel nodded, watching Dean round the couch for the kitchen. "Get up off your ass and help me clean," he ordered, making his way to the messy counters.

Castiel stood to follow, coming up just as Dean pulled a black plastic bag from beneath the sink. "Here," he barked, thrusting the bag into his hands, "Shove everything that's non-edible into the bag."

Following his orders, Cas dropped the various jars into it with speed, pausing his haste only when he came across the jar with the dead soul, nothing left but a dull, blue liquid. "Just toss it into the fridge," Dean told him, noticing the way he paused to look at it, "They help make a good cocktail." He grinned.

Castiel gently put it on the shelf with the other souls, noticing the way the others seemed to cringe away from it. He wanted to apologize to them, but then he remembered what the demon had told him. These were wicked souls.

He let his head fall with defeat before shutting the door.

They did manage to get the place cleaned, but it only made the house seem even more empty. The counters were bare except for the partially eaten loaf of bread. Castiel made his way back to the couch cautiously, sitting himself down on the far side of it once again. "Hey," Dean called, smirking when the angel spun his head around instantly, "Come with me, Sammy'll throw a fit if he knows you've been wearing the same shit."

"I don't understand," Castiel replied, following none the less.

"Just shut up and get in here." He grinned.


	5. Important Update

**I apologize deeply lovelies, but while I was on vacation, I wrote multiple updates on word doc hoping to post them once I had Internet again. However on the plane trip home, my laptop got severely damaged and I lost it all. There won't be updates for a while because I don't have A way to write anything quite yet or to get in touch with my betas. I'm writing this on my phone and having a terrible time trying to do so. On top of hat, i was involved in a car wreck, and had all my wisdom teeth pulled. If I have to then I'll Ty to continue writing this way, I hope you don't mind being a little patient as I try to get a new computer. There will be a wait For Updates during this time, but I hope you'll understand. Love you all! Thank you for your support!**

** -an apologetic LovelyFangirls**


	6. Discovering Humanity

**Sorry for the wait, good news is that this is a ridiculously long chapter, quite a bit of story development. Enjoy, and thanks for the patience. And thank you to my beta team for working this. Life savers! **

* * *

Castiel had decided to keep himself distant since the demon had saved him, believing that he was up to something. He had to be. Castiel's best idea was to just be cautious, to be sure and not just do anything Dean told him to do. Of course, Dean had forced him into a tee shirt and jeans...which seemed to be all the demon had.

"See if it fits," Dean ordered, shoving the clothes into Cas's arms.

Castiel frowned. "Why?"

"Because I'm entering you in a beauty contest. What does it matter?" he scoffed.

"What was wrong with my clothes?"

"You've been sitting in them for days. You stink." Dean turned him around, pushing him out the door of his room and back into the hall. "Get a shower and change."

Frowning, the angel nodded, cautiously making his way into what he could only assume was the bathroom, and was awkwardly comforted at the sight of a toilet. He hasn't eaten much, and only then realized how badly he needed to use it.

He kicked the door shut with his foot before starting the water in the shower stall before relieving himself. The feeling of even _needing_ something as pointless as a restroom made him frown again. He was starting to feel more like a human already, and he'd only lived with the demon for a few days. As he stepped under the water, he wondered what experiences he would wind up having now that he was belittled to humanity.

The water felt good against his skin, and it made him draw even more attention to himself, nervously running a palm over his arm. This felt pleasurable. There was a single knock on the door before it creaked open, "Hey angel face, you forgot the boxers-"

Castiel didn't know why, but watching the demon roam eyes over him made him instantly clammy, forcing his hands over whatever he could cover, cringing when Dean chuckled devilishly, "Hiding?" He grinned.

Castiel adverted his eyes, wondering why felt so hot and embarrassed; he was an angel! He frowned at himself, shut his eyes and prayed that the demon would leave quickly. To his despair, Dean crossed his arms and made himself comfortable against the door frame, a smirk spread widely over his face as he stared contently.

"Did you need something?" Castiel finally asked, forcing the lump out of his throat.

"Oh no, by all means continue."

Castiel glared at the faucet, waiting for him to leave in silent protest.

"You're not going to get clean by just standing there." He chuckled, nodding his head towards the stiff and motionlessman. "The soap needs using."

Cas was so uncomfortable that he didn't know what to do with himself. Part of him wanted to sit down and hide, while the prouder angel half encouraged him to fight back.

Cautiously, he removed a hand from where he covered his groin, popping the soap's lid open before flipping it over to squirt into his palm. He would be proud and force his way through this. Grace-bound or not, he was an angel of the Lord.

However, his emotions and feelings were still jumbled up like a human's, and it felt better when he turned his back to Dean, eyes trained on the shower wall. There wasn't a curtain or a door to close conveniently between them. He felt so vulnerable like this. It frustrated him. The demon didn't even shift until Castiel finished rinsing out his hair, sending nervous glances at Dean whenever he could without getting a sinister smile from his tormenter.

He thanked God when he was finally finished, and forced himself into the clothes he'd been given.

"Well, don't you clean up well." He grinned, clumping Castiel's old clothes under his arm. "That was unrelentingly sexy."

Castiel turned to leave, his face red and hot. He wanted to vomit, but couldn't shake the feeling that he actually liked the way his stomach turned. It made him feel... He wasn't sure what to call it. Make no mistake, he had in no way enjoyed the watchful gaze over him as he showered. So why on earth should he be saddened when his chest deflated and the feeling left him? He sighed heavily, the need to vomit subsiding. Cas rubbed a hand over his abdomen for a mere moment before realizing he would have to face the demon again. Something he was suddenly dreading terribly. He shuddered as the urge to vomit came back to him.

Hobbling forward on weary knees, he slugged his way back into the living room.

Dean tagged along behind him as he came from his room, an armful of dirty laundry held up against his hip. He nodded his head towards Castiel, gaining his attention before chucking the pile at him. "Washer's in the closet by the kitchen, just pour a little soap in and hit the button," he ordered before redirecting himself back into the bathroom for a shower of his own.

Castiel gritted his teeth. He was entertaining the thought of childish revenge. That perverted demon wasn't so tough, really. At least, he told himself that. His angry adrenaline was stronger than his sense.

Castiel found the washer, cleaning his own clothes like he was told, adding what he thought was a sensible amount of soap before pressing the button.

He'd sit in silent revenge until Dean's brother left. He would have started by not washing the clothes like the demon instructed, but they were his own, and could very well use a cleaning. Castiel plopped himself down on the couch, crossing his arms defiantly, waiting for Dean to come back out and see him. He had debated whether or not to spy on Dean's shower as revenge, but he all too quickly realized his own bashfulness and how easily it would be for the demon to spin the situation to his own advantage.

The man was a pervert who had no morals. Watching him shower would probably be more of a pleasure than means for an embarrassing revenge tactic.

This was good; he'd just be disobedient while his brother was visiting. From what he'd been told, Dean's brother was the demon equivalent to a humanitarian, shadowing more on the side of weaker creatures then his own kind.

Lost is thought, Castiel's eyes curiously locked onto the sky once more. It was still the same, dark and deep, surely capable of swallowing up anything that entered it. He stood cautiously, glancing, nearly pressed up against the glass. The city would be like any other found on Earth, the only real difference being a few supernatural sized cracks in the roads, the streetlamps that were fueled by flame, and the way small, flickering flames moved about like glowing ants. He assumed that the demons carried candles of sort, seeing as the flaming posts only provided so much light around them. It made him curious. Who'd decided the demons should have a city modeled after the humans? And why candles as opposed to electricity? If it was modeled after the humans surely they would have made it similar in that aspect as well. It was all very puzzling and, at the same time, intriguing.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Dean's accusing voice interrupted his thoughts. The angel turned, taking in an eyeful of the man's changes bluntly.

He cleaned up well, the original dirtied attire long gone. His hair was combed upward in the front, almost like a spike but not quite as threatening.

Castiel was about to give him a reply when he remembered that he was going to be rebellious. Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't answer me. Sammy'll be here in about…" he flicked his wrist closer to his face, "Eh...maybe ten minutes?"

Castiel didn't acknowledge him, keeping himself controlled, eyes glued to the window.

"Yeah, well...if you're hungry, I stashed the bread in the cupboard over the sink." Dean frowned and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "Hey." He took a few steps closer to Castiel. "You hear me?"

Castiel didn't reply, proud that Dean had finally stopped talking to himself and noticed it was only a one man conversation. "Hey," he repeated, more authority in his voice this time, "Answer me when I speak to you."

A strong hand forced Castiel to spin around, Dean right up in his face, a black eyed glare targeted on him. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, Castiel adverted his gaze to the floor, forcing himself to become acquainted with the patterns on the demon's shoes.

"Hey. What's wrong with you?" Dean questioned, pushing his chin up roughly, almost squishing Castiel's lips, digging his nails into his cheeks.

The angel held his ground, staring back at the cold gaze with just as much intensity. It peeved him when Dean let out a low snicker. "What's this? A silent protest?"

When no reply was given, Castiel witnessed the way Dean's grin dropped suddenly into an alarming serious scowl. "Seriously?"

Castiel's revenge-clouded mind had cleared, and he now felt childish. The point of no return, however, had been passed. His pride wouldn't let him back down.

The black eyes faded back, revealing the man's deep green irises. Castiel had never had a good chance to see them. Whenever they were close enough, Dean was usually angry, nothing to see except the threatening demon eyes.

He caught himself noticing how much humanityit gaveDean. The demon frowned, Castiel's absentminded staring making him uncomfortable. He lips parted as if he was about to say something when he was interrupted by a loud rhythm knocking on his door.

Dean shook his head with stubborn determination, spinning around to let his brother in. He'd saved that stupid angel's life, fed him, and hadn't once decided to hit him. He was being... Dean cringed visibly as he considered himself to be…nice.

Something was going terribly wrong. Castiel was ignoring him, and he was being kind. He was a damn demon! No demon should ever be anything so weak, especially one as feared as himself. With a sturdy scowl, Dean pulled the door open.

Sam greeted his brother with a smile, a happy-go-lucky looking kind of angel standing obediently at his side. "Hey."

"Sammy." He grinned, pushing his scowl away with determination.

Castiel, who was kneeling over the couch, lit up when he saw the angel. "G-Gabriel!" he cried, leaping off the cushions and rushing forward, catching both the demons off guard.

"Castiel!"

Dean pulled on Sam's arm as they watched the two of them hug. "Dude… do our angels know each other?"

"No, I don't think so," Sam replied, rolling his eyes as he shrugged his brother off, "Obviously they're saying each other's names and hugging because they are complete strangers."

Sam doubled over when a sharp elbow slammed against his arm. "Ow!" he protested, cradling it with his opposite hand.

"Shut up, wimp," he groaned. "How do you think they know each other?"

Sam frowned as curiosity tickled his brain, "Why do you want to know so badly? Probably siblings with the way Heaven works."

Dean leaned back against the door, crossing his arms casually as they watched the two angels greet each other like old friends. The demon didn't open his mouth again until Castiel went in for what had to be their third hug. "Not all angels see each other as siblings. You should know that better than anyone."

Sam chuckled lightly. "You sound jealous."

"I'm not. Just wondering if I have anything to worry about. Plans of escape and whatnot."

"Gabriel wouldn't do that."

Dean observed curiously as his brother locked his eyes unto the angel in question, his expression skewed like he was trying to figure out their relationship himself, contrary to just about everything he'd been saying. As if he didn't trust it.

Dean's mind wandered further, noticing how he still thought of these creatures as its, but even in his head Dean's reference to Castiel had become a him. He could admit to himself that he liked the angel. He had spunk and bravery, but it was ridiculous to think he'd put Castiel and himself on the same level. Dean jolted out of the thought when Sam nudged him.

"So, how is it?"

"How's what?"

Rolling his eyes, "Your 'angel bride'? Did Benny ever figure out what to do?"

"No."

Sam blinked a couple times. "And you're not upset about waiting?"

Dean watched the angels make their way towards the couch and pushed himself off the wall before walking the short distance into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door before pulling out the remains of the soul he'd killed before flashing his brother a grin. "Thirsty?"

Sam nodded with a short tug of a sideways smile, "Felt the need to kill something?" He watched Dean twist the lid off before chucking it noisily onto the counter.

"It nearly killed the angel, I just stopped it," he stated matter-of-factly before lifting the jar to his lips and taking a few gulps.

"He let it out?" Sam questioned, taking the jar when it was offered.

Dean shook his head before pointing his thumb behind them towards the large window, "Smashed the jar on accident."

With a silent nod, Sam took a drink. They carried on with pointless conversation for a while, mainly consisting of Sam making sure he was alright, which irritated Dean. He was a grown demon who could care for himself. He didn't need his kid brother mothering him.

"I can't believe you're still alive!" Castiel smiled, beaming with joy from ear to ear, "I mean... We had all assumed they killed you."

"Not me." Gabriel grinned, taking a seat down on the back of the couch casually. "I'm a part of Samsquatch's research."

"S-samsquatch?" Castiel asked.

Gabriel's expression was sin. "My demon. I call him that. He's a giant who won't get a haircut. It seemed pretty spot-on."

Castiel frowned. "Your demon? Does that mean you're friends?"

"You could say that..." Gabriel shrugged before ruffling his thick, long locks of hair. It had grown quite a bit since the last time Castiel saw him.

"You're comfortable then?"

"Not gonna lie, it can be hard sometimes with the lack of freedom… but I consider myself lucky that Sam was the demon I got stuck with." Castiel watched his eyes shift over to the demons in the kitchen. The look he was giving Sam was questionable, and unmistakably human. "He's very kind. Not at first, mind you." Gabriel grinned as if remembering a funny joke he needed to tell. "We had a few rough patches, but I got to know him."

* * *

"Hey! Off the table!" Sam ordered, his eyes suddenly becoming threatening black pools, "If you knock any of those tubes over then all of this research goes down the drain!"

The lab was fairly large, with multiple long, metal tables littered with test tubes, papers and books. It was the demon's place of work, which was all Gabriel knew so far. He'd been dropped off there on a leash like an animal. He'd been thankful when the demon let him loose.

Gabriel fumbled off, glancing over his shoulder as the demon started reorganizing everything. "I'm only letting you roam because it will be better for my research if you're not crippled by a cage!" He cocked his head to look back at him, a firm glare targeted at Gabriel's unphased expression. "I mean it! Break anything, and I'll really lock you away!"

"You're not going to swear at me like your stupid friends?" he questioned before plopping himself down into a spinning chair on wheels, happily twisting himself around.

"I have a larger vocabulary than either of them. The short one's my brother, and I can't stand the other one." He grunted before crossly placing his hands on his hips. "Having fun?"

"You can cut the small talk. What do you need from me?"

Sam dropped his hands. "Pardon?"

"You needed me for your research right? What do you need?"

"Oh!" The angel watched with amusement as the demon scurried around the small, colorful lab apparently in search of a pen and pad. "Information," he replied, almost knocking over a small beaker of bright, nearly neon, yellow liquid.

"Information? That's fairly innocent compared to what I expected."

"And what was that?" Sam asked with a curious smile, triumphantly finding his tools.

Gabriel pressed back into the chair tiredly, resting his head against the top of it's back. He was strangey weary. "I dunno, dissection? Maybe something out of the creepy Frankenstein genre." He shrugged.

Sam let out string of low chuckles, "No, I'm alright. The most physical research you'll be doing is some flying, but I haven't got a secured area for that just yet."

"Did your buddies drug me or something?" Gabriel frowned, finding the insane desire to close his eyes. He wasn't in immediate danger, but enough to know it would be a stupid idea. His body must just have been exerted from the fights earlier.

"...No, why?"

"I'm tired..." Gabriel frowned vigorously at him when he noticed the demon scribble something onto his pad. "I haven't said anything yet…"

"Your fatigue is important."

His frown only deepened. "How?"

Sam peeked up from his pad momentarily. "Angels don't get tired normally."

With a noisy groan, Gabriel rolled his head around, staring at the top of Sam's hair line as he continued to write. "You an angel expert?"

"I hope to be." He grinned, dropping the pad onto his lap as he stopped leaning over it and began to relax into the back of his own chair. "I'm hoping you'll help me."

"To learn angel weaknesses?" he snapped.

Sam's grin faded, "Well, that's what the funding papers will say as the official reason, yes." he stuffed his pen in the back of his ear before leaning forwards again, elbows resting on his knees as he clasped his hands together. "But if you can keep a secret..." he pretended to look around as if he could be heard, celebrating on the inside when the angel leaned closer, "Morbid curiosity is what drives me."

Gabriel watched him retreat back, but stared unblinking for a moment. His cluckles outburst shortly after, sounding joyful. "I've never even heard of demons like you. You must be the ones they keep closeted, trying to keep a strong front."

"Well, don't underestimate me." He winked. "I'm stronger than I look."

"You look like a chihuahua. Should I upgrade you to fluffy poodle?"

A wicked grin tickled Sam's features. "Chihuahua? That's new."

"What do you usually get referred to?" The angel grinned.

"Moose."

Gabriel let out a hearty chuckle, "Moose? I'll have to use that later."

"_I'm_ not the one bound in sigils." He nodded his head at Gabriel, "I'm studying you and the sigil's effects on angels. If my previous studies are correct, they should drop you to about as much power as a human."

Gabriel's head snapped up. "Human?"

"Human."

"So this _is_ about power."

Sam shrugged lightly. "To others maybe. But I have my own reasons."

"And they are?"

The demon paused, thinking over his answer carefully before replying with a smile. "...I want to be human someday."

Gabriel fell off of his chair, crashing to the floor with a loud thud. "You- you want to be a what?!"

Sam, who had risen suddenly to his feet when Gabriel fell, now returned to his chair, a serious expression on his face. "Believe it or not, demons are nothing more than human souls, tortured to the point where we too have become the wicked creatures we used to despise." His frown quickly forced its way into a scowl. "I know this, and believe we can change. There are other theories on changing demons into humans...but I myself don't possess the power as a demon."

Gabriel's mouth had dropped open, and he nearly feared his jaw would scrape the floor. "Why do you want to be human?" His tone was almost accusing, and full of doubt.

"I don't expect a creature of God to understand. When I became a scientist of the underworld, some of my human memories were restored to me. I was intelligent, and they needed that." his eyes lidded lightly. "I remember having a family, which is actually how I found Dean."

"Your brother?"

Sam nodded sadly. "Unfortunately he doesn't share all the memories I do. I did an experiment on him once, trying to send it to him through dreams, but it didn't work. I did manage to work _myself_ in there, and I suppose I should be thankful he recognizes me at all."

Gabriel found this all heart breaking, and it threw him for a loop. He knew that souls sent to Hell more often than not became demons, usual the petty scum that require minimal force to eliminate. This one, however, was far different.

He dropped himself back into the chair, swerving so that his face was out of sight. The last thing he needed was for a demon to see him blush.

* * *

Castiel digested his brother's story gradually, furrowing his brow the further along he got, "Dean informed me that I would change because of the sigils, but…to be truly human?"

"We've been working through the research for a while. The final effect is different for angels. At least, that's the theory. My wings are still strong, but my grace is hardly there. Sam lets me fly a few days a week when we can manage to sneak out."

"My wings have been killing me…" Castiel grumbled, looking over his shoulder and pressing against their restraints as if to prove his point.

"You should see if Dean will bring you by the lab! There's a dome built for the study of flight."

Cas shook his head, "You may have been fortunate, but Dean is different. He's a demon to the core. Dean is cruel and heartless!"


	7. The Devil Inside

Dean heard Castiel's declaration from across the room. His attention was taped to Castiel's back rather suddenly because of it, watching the two angels interact once more. Dean noted the way Castiel seemed to shy away into his words, suddenly slumped over where he sat, head down and eyes anywhere _but_ facing Dean.

"Fighting with your angel?" Sam smirked, taking another swig of blue liquid out of the mason jar with a satisfied gulp. "What'd you do?"

"Shut your trap," Dean groaned with repugnance, stealing the jar from Sam's hand just as he was about to take another drink, "He's just been moody today."

"You know," Sam began, "the best way to tame an angel is to make friends. Gabriel walks on my heels rather obediently."

Dean donned a devilish grin at this, leaning back against the kitchen counter, "Well look at you, playing with your pet. You mess with his head or something?"

"We just get along. It's simple chemistry," Sam replied, matter-of-factly, "Just letting you in on some of the perks."

The brothers passed the jar a few more times in silence, until Sam had to knock on the bottom to get the last few drops into his mouth. He used his arm as a napkin and smeared the brightly colored soul remnants off his lips, setting the empty jar nonchalantly into Dean's sink.

"Well..." Dean reentered, eyes once again glued to the angels on the couch. They were whispering, and it bugged him. "How do you do it?"

Sam stared at him curiously before pulling a face. "Do what?"

"Make...friends?"

Dean growled dangerously when Sam started to chuckle at his brother's embarrassment. Dean wasn't _embarrassed_, just hesitant to try something like this; any pet would be beaten into submission. Demons didn't make 'friends.' "Shut up bitch."

Sam rubbed a hand over his arm where he'd been jabbed by Dean's elbow, wearing a rather disheartened face. "Jerk."

"Whatever. Just tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."

"...You're serious?"

Dean furrowed his brow in warning, warning his brother not to take the joke too far, "No, I'm humoring you for the heck of it. Of course I'm serious." he rubbed the cartilage of his nose tenderly, trying to keep a frustrated headache from waking up. "I don't want to put up with any disobedient shit. That's all."

"That sounds more like you." Sam grinned, nudging Dean with his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, all that gooey shit can go down later. Just give me the instruction manual."

With a weary sigh and a hand tight over Dean's shoulder, Sam starting whispering advice. It started with simple, small things. Asking the angel questions and interaction was good. Just not being a dick was the main gist. Not even half way through all that Sam wanted to say and already Dean's face was a mix of confusion, frustration and a pair of dog-tired, rather frustrated, eyes.

"Dude...maybe this should be a slow thing..." Dean started, raising his hand up to stop his brother's suggestions. "This is a lot of useless stuff to remember all at once."

"It's not useless if you want to gain his favor," Sam grunted, crossing his arms like an authoritative mother. "You always give up too easily."

Dean was getting a little tired of being led around for one day, "Everyone seems to think I'm a big pushover today." he grumbled, remembering how he'd let Castiel get off scott-free for defying him. The thought played with his brain, willing his eyes to convert back to the odium-thick demon eyes. "You may be my brother, but you're not my boss."

Sam's expression changed suddenly, filled with disappointment. Dean didn't want to notice that they almost looked sad. Demons didn't get sad. He'd always suspected there was something wrong with Sam, but ignored it whenever he could. All this talk about 'friendship' with a pet was nonsense. That's what Castiel was afterall, a pet. Not a him, but an it. He didn't have to make friends with what belonged to him.

Filled with repugnance, Dean pushed himself off the counter, making his way toward the couch where the angels had stopped their whispering. "Just take your fucking pet and leave."

Sam started up behind him, reaching out an apologetic hand to place on his shoulder, "Dean-"

"Just get the fuck out of my place!" he snarled, spinning around so suddenly Castiel thought he was about to kill him.

Dean had snatched the friendly hand and now had it grasped between livid and irate knuckles, crushing it with brute force. Sam's face was skewed awkwardly, fighting fear and delivering an attempt to stand strong. Gabriel rose from his seat beside Castiel, ready to pounce if the need to should arise. "Dean," Sam repeated, "Let go of me."

His brother let out a low, dangerous chuckle before leaning closer. "Then take your angel, your cowardice, and your friendship, and get the hell out. I don't want someone who stoops to the same level as these maggots telling me what to do."

"What happened to you?"

Dean shoved Sam's hand away crudely, still keeping his eyes locked on the other demon, "Maybe we were brother's once, but truthfully, I don't think we're that similar. Don't pretend you know me."

"I _do_ know you."

Dean's voice was deep and threatening, saturated in detestation and laced with something Castiel could only assume was something from the past. "Get. Out," he ordered, the perimeter of his black eyes now stained with a dark, bloody red. "_Now_."

Castiel felt his stomach drop to the floor, his heart was faster than normal, and only picked up it's pace when Sam and Gabriel started to leave. Gabriel kept his eyes on Castiel, almost apologizing as the door closed behind them.

Castiel was still sitting on the couch, staring up at Dean's back as he glared at the door, as if expecting them to come back. It stayed silent until Dean finally turned to him, only interrupting the stillness with a gasp from the angel. He was frightened.

The demon loomed over him, the redness of his eyes had faded, but those heated black irises remained. "What?"

"N-nothing.."

Dean drew in a calming breath, his rugged and tense shoulders betraying him and forcing his character to stay uptight and on edge, ready to jump off any second and hurt someone. "Do I scare you? Little angel?"

Castiel didn't move, but kept himself facing Dean. "I am neither scared nor little."

"Then why do you look like a trembling, lost puppy?" he chuckled, bending down to cup his hands over the back of the couch, shoulders slumped, face only a few inches from Castiel's, and a venomous smile tinged over his lips.

"Why did you get upset?"

The smile that was once powerful became angry and warning, "Because I'm a god damn demon," he replied, "We pillage, plunder, curse, and lie. We don't share, we don't care, and we sure as hell don't make friends with _lesser_ creatures."

Castiel tried to let his eyes wander a little, but didn't manage to get far. There was something about the way Dean was staring at him that made him too nervous to look away. "...Where is this coming from?" he enquired, fingers subtly clinging to the hem of the shirt he wore, looking for support, even comfort.

"That sorry excuse of a demon thinks that because I knew him on earth, he's got a right to tell me what to do. He only approached me a little less than two months ago." Dean's spine straightened proudly, but he kept himself lowered to Castiel's height, squaring his shoulders to the best of his ability. "He thinks that I give up easily, that I should make friends with you so that you'll obey me." He chuckled once more, "I can make you listen to me without any of that shit."

Castiel was caught up, and confused about why he was feeling fear. His hands were steadying himself thanks to the rough grip he had on the shirt, but the demonic stare that chased him was nerve wracking. With little warning, the demon had started to smirk again.

It was always dark, and they didn't have electric lights in hell. All that lit the room were candles. Candles that barely outlined the dangerous scowl, only helping it feel all the more threatening, "You are an _it_," he muttered, "You're a fucking_ it_."

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

There was a loud slam that made Castiel jump as Dean slammed his fists down on the back of the couch. "You. Are an it." His words were so silent that Castiel thought maybe he was talking to himself, telling himself was Castiel was. "An it..."

The demon's shoulders had slumped again, and Castiel could see the pitched eyes turn lax and gently fade until the brilliant jade eyes he'd once admired found him again. Dean looked like he was slowly crumbling."What are you doing to me?" he whispered, pushing his drowsy head forward the small distance so that their foreheads bumped against one another.

What was he doing to Dean? What did that mean?! The demon was the one making Castiel's emotions run around in circles.

Castiel wasn't a human, he wasn't even much of an _angel_ anymore, and Dean was making him feel that confusingly, loveable sickness again. What was this?

"Dean?" he asked quizzically, "I don't understand..."

Dean's head shook against his as he shut his eyes slowly. "You're doing something to me, and I don't like it. I'm changing somehow.."

"Why do you think it's me?"

The olive green irises followed the edges of Castiel's lips as he talked, chasing every heavy breath he took. "It started after you showed up…" his tone was worried, almost hesitant to confess this, like that sentence explained everything and would give away all his weaknesses.

"I still don't understand..."

Dean's expression suddenly became serious, hiding any emotion that had been there only seconds ago. He recoiled back, not saying a word as he pushed himself off where he'd slumped over the couch, almost defensively. Dean ran an awkward hand through his hair and groaned, turning lazily toward the door, "I'm going out."

"Where?"

"You need more food," he replied, emotionless, shrugging into his coat after pulling it off the rack by the door.

He left silently after that, leaving Castiel alone, just staring at the door in utter confusion. He didn't understand any of this. All he _did_ know, was that the demon he'd met in the basement nearly three days ago wasn't the same one he'd just talked with. Dean had let his guard down for a moment, and that was something demons never did, especially for angels.


	8. Something's Wrong

A full day had passed, unspoken and awkward. Dean was purposefully more hostile than he'd been before, sprouting crude words and sharing snarky glances whenever he thought the angel was looking at him. He'd make a point of putting the angel in his place and tried to be as forcefully distant as possible. He was a demon, harsh and cruel: an owner, not a friend.

Dean knew he was a demon, and he knew he should sinfully enjoy being cruel. So then, why did he feel sick everytime he caught an eyeful of the frightened look Castiel forced on him when he was threatening? Why did it even bother him?

All the brooding over his mindless questions just made Dean angrier, even more determined to be-for lack of better word-evil. With his head high and back straight, the demon made his way over to the couch that the obedient angel perched on. "Hey," he muttered, gaining Castiel's immediate attention.

The angel looked up at him sadly, "Yes?"

"...Did you eat today?" his voice was low, "Can't have you starving, now can we?"

Castiel nodded slowly, turning his head back to where he peered out of the window and up to the sky. It was still a big, dark nothingness, but the angel had started to take a small, yet strange, sense of comfort in looking at it.

"Good."

Dean had completely forgotten why'd he'd even marched over in the first place, and lost all better judgement on conversation. "You pee?"

Awkwardly hesitant, Castiel nodded again, keeping his head down. "You...don't need to ask me that, you know..."

"Whatever," he barked immediately. Of course it was a stupid question, but all he really knew about the angel was that he needed to eat and well...pee. There was nothing else to really say. He thought hard. "Well.." he continued, "Since I have your attention, I wanna know more about you and Sam's angel."

"...Gabriel?" Castiel clarified, tilting his head slightly when Dean rested his arms against the back of the couch.

"That his name?"

The angel displayed a fond smile, actually relaxing against the back of the sofa, "He's my brother, and very close friend." His eyes gingerly fell to the floor as his brow furrowed. "I hadn't seen him in a long time...and...assumed him dead."

"Hah. That guys got more energy than a friggin' twelve year old. He can't sit still long enough to die." Dean didn't know why he was joking, it just helped with settling the uneasyfeeling in his stomach.

Castiel smiled. "He always did like to bound about." After a short period of silence, he continued, "My brother is very dear to me."

Tiredly, Dean rounded the couch, plopping himself down beside Castiel. "What I said yesterday," he began, "Don't take any of it into account."

"...Which parts?"

Dean scratched the stubble on his chin. "I like the kid. I just think Sammy's too soft for his own good. Demons can't afford to be like that."

Castiel frowned quizzically. "I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"I _mean_," he retorted, "That down here, caring is not an advantage. They'll chew you up and spit you out." Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued, "It's actually frightening to think about."

"What is?"

Dean smirked. "Caring…"

Castiel let his guard down and stared at the demon, wondering what was going through his head. "Is that why you got upset yesterday?"

"Yeah. I'm not used to any of this shit. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here, and I've got no fucking clue what's happening to me."

Frowning, Castiel parroted him, "'No clue what's happening to you.' You said that last night, too. What do you mean?"

"I dunno, dammit," he scoffed, flinging his head back against the sofa. "I'm just _feeling_ shit. It's weird, and this never happened before you showed up."

"So...you think it's my fault?"

Dean shrugged. "Who knows. I just want to be done with it. It's fucking annoying."

"What does it feel like? To care?"

"Oh shut up," he groaned, "This is_ not_ going to become one of those shitty chick-flick moments. We're not braiding each other's hair or anything."

"Your hair isn't long enough to-"

"Never-fucking-mind."

Castiel watched the demon stand, cracking his back noisily once he was on two feet again. When he didn't move, Castiel decided to look up to the sky again. Dean took note of it rather instantly, chuckling, "You know, you can stare at it all you want. It's still gonna be black. It never changes." He crouched down, eye level with the angel before reaching a hand out and flicking his nose. "Go to sleep. Tomorrow we're going on a field trip."

Castiel rubbed his nose with a frown as Dean straightened himself. "Field trip?"

"Sam's place. There's an angel dome." He started walking toward his room, flapping a hand over his shoulder nonchalantly. "You can stretch your wings."

"Really?!"

The excitedness in Castiel's voice caught the demon off guard, and he chanced a curious look back at him. He'd stood and crossed the short distance toward the demon, rather uncharacteristically wrapping his arms around him. "Thank you, thank you!"

Dean didn't know what to do. He hadn't done much of anything, and...didn't know the last time he'd ever been hugged. Awkwardly trying to figure out where his hands were supposed to go, he muttered out, "Y-you're welcome?" and bashfully rested his hands on the angel's shoulder blades.

What the hell was wrong with him? The warmth of a body pressed up against him was nice and welcoming, as well as very foreign to Dean. Demons didn't hug, but this experience made him want to more often. He'd take the angel out every day if it meant he got to feel this again.

Castiel seemed to snap out of his appreciative trance, and pulled back cautiously, "I-I'm sorry. I just sort of..."

"It's fine," Dean replied, taking a step backward toward his room. "It's fine."

"You...said that."

"Yeah I-" Dean's heel caught on his carpet and he stumbled a little.

Neither of them could believe he'd just done that. Enraged with embarrassment, Dean all but bolted to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Castiel didn't follow him, but his eyes did, curiously attaching themselves to his feet while he tried to see if something was wrong with the demon's legs. "What the-"

"Hell," Dean grumbled, slumped wearily against the door of his bedroom. "What the hell just happened?"

* * *

Sam had no problem with them dropping by and actually greeted Dean happily. Dean didn't actually apologize for the way he acted, but Sam didn't seem to care. Truthfully, he was just thankful his brother hadn't shut him out completely.

Gabriel hugged Castiel tightly. "Oh, thank God. I thought that crazy bastard was going to kill you!" he muttered into his ear, careful not to give himself away to the demons that stood by the door to Sam's lab. He pulled back quickly, looking Cas over. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."

"Call you mean names?" he teased.

"Not too many...but he was angry."

Gabriel frowned, realizing his accusation was just, and being irritated with how casual Castiel was about it. "Are.. you defending him?"

"No," he replied, "But, I don't want you accusing him falsely."

Gabriel had started to say something else but was interrupted by the two demons coming back to them. Sam smiled giddily and, for a moment, Gabriel forgot all troubles. "Gabriel, you can show him around the dome right?" he said, handing him the key with little to no hesitation.

"Sure thing." He grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him along to a large titanium door at the end of the room. There was another large window right beside it, similar to the one in Dean's apartment, and Castiel paused to stare out as Gabriel fumbled with the lock.

The dome wasn't much. It was circular, and pillars piled much higher than the ceiling of the lab, which had a corner poking out the middle of the room like an intruder. It was oddly shaped, really, but reminded him vaguely of a corner of heaven that he'd used to love; a beautiful replica of a massive, famous garden in London. Of course, the walls of his favorite flying spot were made of glass. These were harsh concrete. Truthfully, Castiel didn't care and was just happy to have a chance to stretch his wings.

Gabriel picked out another key from the chain and started in on Castiel's wings as he continued to look around. The room was bare, and he could clearly see Dean and Sam from the other side of the window, watching carefully. The binds behind his back sprung loose, and his muscles felt instant relief as he let the wings move again.

Dean watched with fascination as the angel's expression changed to one filled with pure ecstasy and pleasure. The wingspan was large, and he could see the way each feather seemed to be subtly shaking, eager to feel the wind again. Gabriel took a step back, seeming to realize the same thing as Castiel shot suddenly off the ground.

Dean's neck cracked when he tried to follow.

Castiel shut his eyes, feeling the flowing movements of the air around him send a cool chill over his face. He circled the top, looking down on Gabriel with the biggest smile Dean had ever seen. "Gabriel!" he yelled down, "Look at me!"

Just as Sam pulled a note pad from one of the desks, Castiel began to laugh.

"Yeah, alls well and yada yada, but hey...you think you could come back and open mine up too, Cassie?" Gabriel chuckled, crossing his arms.

In a matter of seconds, Castiel was back on the ground, his grin blinding when he turned to Gabriel. "Sorry..." he replied, heavy breaths coming from his worn out lungs, "I was excited."

"I'll bet." Gabriel pulled the correct key from the chain and held it out to Cas with a smile, "Get mine and I'll join you."

The two of them were the oddest pair of flyers Dean had ever seen, bumping into each other multiple times before finally getting a dignified routine so they wouldn't slam into the other while they were flying. Castiel never stopped smiling throughout.

Dean didn't even know he was grinning until his brother pointed it out. "What's got you so happy then?"

"I'm not," he replied, forcing his lips down again. "Just looks like fun."

"What do you think it would be like? To have wings?" Sam inquired, looking through the glass with an interested expression himself.

Dean chuckled, "Like having a giant, feathery tail on your back."

Sam smiled down at his notepad, taking his self-study notes on Dean's reaction. His own, small part of humanity made him think Gabriel's flying to be beautiful. Sam silently hoped Dean could see that, too. "Beau-Pretty cool isn't it?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Dean mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest before returning his attention to the glass.

Castiel did look glorious, wings spread wide as he pulled himself through the air at lightning speed, feathers dropping to and fro. Dean thought it was weird how much he was enjoying watching them fly around, especially Cas. The longer he watched, the more feathers he saw fall. He turned to Sam suddenly, noticing the same quizzical expression on his brother's face, "Is he supposed to be losing that many feathers?"

"No...it's not normal to my knowledge-"

That's when the angel started to fall, catching Gabriel off guard as he'd started up to the top another time, expecting to find Castiel close behind. With a loud, sickening thud the angel hit the ground, "Shit!" Dean cursed, immediately rushing out into the dome, Sam right on his heels.

"What happened?!" Sam exclaimed, staring over to Gabriel as Dean started to gently slap at Castiel's unconscious form.

"I don't know…" Gabriel admitted, "He was fine only a few minutes ago."

"So what, he just fucking fell?" Dean barked, "What the hell happened? He's out cold!"

"His grace…" Gabriel started, an utterly confused frown on his face, "It's...hardly there."

Sam frowned, "What do you mean it's hardly there?!"

"I mean it's fading! I can't see it that well anymore! I don't understand this anymore then you do!" Gabriel screeched, looking from the demon to the angel multiple times.

"Get him into the lab," Sam ordered, pushing up off the ground quickly before getting the door.

Dean pulled the angel up into his arms carelessly, trying to get him up off the floor and into the room with haste. Thankfully, the lab had an examination table, and Sam ordered that Castiel be laid down over it, busily getting to work to make sure his vitals were still working.

He cocked the angel's chin up in order to keep his airway open, and checked for a heartbeat, happy when he found it well off, save for the few sped up beats, which had probably been caused by his flying. Castiel was fine medically, just unconscious.

"Go home, Dean," Sam muttered as he wrapped a small band around Castiel's arm to check his blood pressure, "I'll keep him overnight to study him."

"Like hell," he growled, "He's my responsibility."

"Go. Home," Sam ordered, his eyes turning a fiercely demonic black as he turned his head, "I won't ask you again."

Dean frowned, letting his eyes do the same in challenge, but left all the same in an angry huff.

Gabriel, who'd had a hand over Castiel's the entire time, fidgeted beside Sam as he started to pull the band off. "That's the first time I've ever seen you with black eyes…" he mumbled, almost scared to say so.

"Contrary to popular belief, I _am_ a demon," Sam replied, his attention elsewhere as he busied about Castiel's body, trying to connect the pieces to find why he'd collapsed. "I can get angry, too. It's just on rare occasion."

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't," he snapped, his head coming up suddenly from his work. "You didn't offend me."

Gabriel cocked his head in gesture towards Castiel's unconscious figure. "What's wrong with him?" he mumbled, clearly concerned, but his attention still fixed on Sam's eyes.

"I don't know. Anything you can tell me?"

Gabriel, finally pulling his gaze away from those demonic black irises, turned to the angel, running a hand over his chest for a silent moment before frowning deeply. "His grace..."

"What about it?"

"It's…not normal." He craned his neck to get a different looking angle, but still looked extremely confused, even fascinated, "I-I don't understand it."

"What's changed?" Sam enquired, flipping around to get at his pen and pad.

"It's…faded? I can't explain it. The color is wrong, and the feeling…It's almost sad."

"Sad?"

"Soul crushing."

Sam watched carefully as the angel's eyes started to water sympathetically. "Have you never seen this before?"

"N-never," Gabriel stuttered, pulling his hand away to wipe his eyes, "It's like there's a part of it missing, but I don't know where it went."

"Missing?" Sam urged, scowling as he pressed the pen onto the paper, scribbling down something as they continued to talk.

Gabriel turned away from Castiel's body, "I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like its important. His grace is just…I suppose the human word for it would be loving, like it's looking for another to connect with. It's that same soft feeling you get from the soul of a human in love. That's probably why it looks familiar. Honestly, it makes me feel strange. It doesn't explain the apparent loss of grace or why he collapsed mid-flight."

Sam raised a hand to scratch the top of his head quizzically. "He's feeling loving? That makes no sense. Loving who? It's grace, and frankly I don't see how it connects."

"This is as new to me as it is to you… Do you think this has something to do with thehumanity research?" Gabriel asked, pulling himself up onto the table, sitting adjacent to Castiel's feet. "With Dean maybe?"

"You think my brother has something to do with this?"

"Castiel was defensive of him when we talked. It didn't really make sense, but it would explain the 'loving' aspect I feel."

Sam lowered with aversion. "Wait," he began, abandoning his pen and pad, "You think that Castiel loves _Dean_? Are you insane?"

"Whether or not he knows it is circumstantial and impossible to know for certain, but it would make sense wouldn't it? An angel's grace is an extension of their being, and will often act on its own. We don't control it as much as we'd like to think. In fact, the origin of 'soul mates' was established when an angel's grace chose for its own. It's fact, not opinion."

Sam groaned wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose as let himself fall limply into his chair, "This is why I don't dabble in emotional research very often. Everything gets complicated."

"Emotions aren't to be controlled. They're unpredictable."

"Yes but-an angel and a demon! I know that Dean and Benny set out to have angel brides, but that was for sex and reproduction. I mean... love?" he barked.

Gabriel frowned, staring down at his feet as they dangled from the table. "Is that so impossible?"

Sam paused, studying Gabriel with his gaze. His eyes had lost their demonic color and were now replaced with morbid curiosity, as well as a small twinge of irritation; two things that often didn't mix, but for this occasion, were the perfect description of Sam's thoughts. "You and I are outliers. Dean's not the same as me; I have my humanity."

"And he doesn't?" Gabriel pushed himself off the table, shortening the distance between himself and Sam with just a few short and hesitant steps. "You said it yourself: demons are just humans with twisted souls. What if Castiel is affecting him?"

Sam frowned, leaning back in his chair before chancing a glance up at the angel's eyes. "Emotions are confusing and incoherent. They have no reliability."

"If they did, then the world would be boring."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth as Gabriel came just a few inches closer, his knees casually bumping into Sam's. The demon reached a hand out to the angel, his fingers brushing along the conjunction between his wrist and arm. "What do your feelings tell you then?"

"That you're a dick."

"Well I must say I thought this conversation was going elsewhere."

"It was..." Gabriel smiled, twisting his wrist slightly and taking hold of the demon's hand, "but I don't want to say anything I might regret."

The demon smirked up at him with power, like he knew exactly what he was doing to the angel and how he was making him feel -like any hell born demon would look at prey. "Say it."

"You already know what I want to say," he muttered, putting gentle pressure on the thin fingers in his hand, "Stop teasing me."

"I want to hear you say it."

Gabriel was silent for a short time, shutting his eyes before nodding slowly, "I love you."

For someone striving to gain himself humanity, Gabriel thought it was impossible to grin that devilishly. The corners of his mouth twisted up into a sinfully pleased smile as Sam tugged gently on the hand grasping his own, pulling the angel forward even more.

Gabriel's legs migrated to either side of Sam's with little to no resistance, seating him atop the demon's lap. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so Gabriel settled for raising them up to Sam's shoulders, flinching only slightly when he felt a cold touch slither up to his hip. Sam's other hand was cupping the angel's neck, pulling him forward slowly until they were sharing oxygen, lips only inches apart. Gabriel forced himself forward, closing the final gap and feeling the uncharacteristically warm lips against his own.

Gabriel had snaked his arms around Sam's neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. It surprised him when the demon pulled back, immediately disappearing from view as his teeth collided with Gabriel's neck. The angel let out an involuntary gasp, only further encouraging Sam's movements as he peppered kisses along his jaw, the hand on his hip slowly making it's way underneath Gabriel's flimsy shirt.

Suddenly there were hands gripping beneath the angel's legs as Sam stood, hauling Gabriel up with him as the angel let out a surprised yelp, clinging to Sam's shoulders when the support beneath his thighs didn't feel satisfactory. "What are you doing?" he cringed, feeling the motion of the demon walking.

"I can't get at anything with you sitting on me like that, as much as I enjoyed it."

Gabriel groaned suggestively, "We're doing this _right_ now?"

"Why not?"

"Castiel is right over there, and he could wake up any moment!"

Sam chuckled darkly, returning his lips to Gabriel's neck as he made it to his destination, plunking the angel down on the edge of a lab desk, keeping himself nestled between the man's legs as his hands shifted from thighs to bony hips.

"I don't care. His vitals are fine, and if he _does_ wake up he'll know first hand just exactly who you belong to," Sam growled possessively, nipping at Gabriel's neck a couple times and grinning when he was rewarded with a sensual moan.

Hopefully, Castiel could manage to stay asleep for just a_ little_ while longer.


	9. Are You Feeling It Too?

When Dean returned to his apartment, he was surprised to see a familiar figure lounging across his couch like he owned the place. "Benny," he grumbled, not in warning or even wondering if it was him, because he knew it was; Dean was just stating that he was aware of his presence. A typical, well-calculated move that any demon, even a hunter would make. Given, lately, he wasn't acting like much of either.

"Good to see you again. Where's the angel?"

"Castiel?"

Benny pulled himself off his back and looked up to where Dean had started shrugging out of his coat, a quizzical expression on his face, "You're calling him by his name?"

The question made Dean pause for a moment, but he decided to brush it off and just shrug. "Problem?"

"Well, no."

"You here for a reason? Or just to make pointless small talk?"

The demon chuckled, pushing off the couch with a hearty skip before rounding the couch to lean casually against its back. "I've got news on our male on male problem."

Dean crossed his arms, nodding with a 'go on' attitude.

"There's nothing I can really do as far as pregnancy, and the only spells on gender change were for demons." Benny shoved his hands into his pockets with a shrug. "I can't find anything, sorry."

"So in other words he's useless?"

"Well, I mean…" Benny started, a dark grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "No fuck hole is useless. You could still get some fun out of him."

Dean would have chuckled at something like that a week ago, but the thought of Castiel falling unconscious previously took any pleasure out of labeling him a fuck toy. He wasn't defending the angel by any means, he just…didn't find it humorous. "He's at Sammy's lab right now, actually."

"Sam? What's that bastard want with him?"

Dean scratched at the back of his neck, suddenly more worried; remembering that he wanted to know if the angel was okay. "I let him fly around the dome and he just-I dunno-he fell."

"He fell?" Benny parroted, "What do you mean? Is he sick?"

Dean let out an overdramatized shrug of his shoulders, flinging his arms out at either side. "No clue. Sam kicked me out before he started examining him."

"Well, there's no need to now. You can just get rid of him. It'll take forever, but we'll go hunting for another angel, this time with a pair of tits."

Dean frowned, a little displeased with the thought. "Sammy probably wants to keep him around for testing and all that shit."

"Well then Sam can take care of it. Not your problem anymore," Benny retorted, a confused expression taking place as Dean casually fought with him.

"Yeah, but Sammy's already got one hyperactive angel in his keep. Why force mine off on him too?" He shrugged. "You know?"

"Dean?" Benny scowled, "What are you doing?"

The demon brushed off his accusing tone, shaking his head like he didn't understand. "Huh?"

Benny frowned as the demon in question shot him a warning glare before trudging his way over to the kitchen, forcing the refrigerator door open with a bit of violence. "You're defending the thing?" Benny pressured as Dean picked out the jar he deemed best.

He popped the lid off before forcing his hand into the jar and scooping a glob into his mouth. "Not defending. Just…calculating," Dean replied, his voice getting muffled by the soft chewing he emitted before shoving another fistful past his lips.

The calculating expression on Benny's face did not go unmissed. Rough hands rubbed at the scruff of his chin as he seemed to be examining Dean from where he stood. The demon was getting a little irritated after a few minutes of silent staring. "Dude, what the hell do you want?"

"Are you feeling it too?"

It was surely a question, but the way Benny said it-like it was a tentative matter of fact-threw Dean off, making him cough loudly over the mouthful he had been trying to eat. "You-you feel it then?"

"That weird, mushy feeling? Yeah." Benny frowned, pulling off his hat for a split second to run a hand through his hair with frustration. "Makes you wonder what the hell we got ourselves into this time."

"You mean what you got us into?" Dean retorted, abandoning the half-eaten soul on the counter to slump over it. "What the hell man!"

"I know, I know. It took longer than expected with this research stuff because I looked into the angel shit too, alright? I don't know what it is."

With a snarky laugh, Dean raised a hand, like a teacher addressing the class, and spoke, "Just to be sure we're on the same page here, we are talking about the angels right? That gut twisting sensation? Like if they were in trouble you might actually die? That damn feeling?"

"Disgusting isn't it?" Benny smirked.

"You can say that again. I thought it was just me…"

The demons stirred a little, but remained in silence for a little while until Dean finally broke their solitude, shaking his head firmly as he muttered, "What's going on man?"

"Something new. That's for damn sure." he chuckled half heartedly, "I was afraid you'd think less of me if I said I was starting to care about her…"

Dean looked up solemnly, "Your angel?"

"My goddess." he corrected, grinning up at the ceiling like a mad man, "It worked you know. She's pregnant, and I'll have an heir."

"Congrats."

"Not really…"

Dean pulled a face, "What's wrong?"

"I fucked up pretty bad. She's scared of me, probably hates me too." he grumbled, his eyes suddenly losing their gleam and his bright smile fading, "I just kinda got scared with all this… 'feelings' stuff that's been happening lately. I blew my top at her."

"Ah." Dean grunted in response, nodding his head in understanding, "I got pissy quite a few times. One time even at Sammy. He was trying to teach me how to make friends."

"Friends?" Benny chuckled, "That doesn't sound like you."

"You're one to talk. Your 'Goddess'? That's pretty out there, even for someone as crazy as yourself." Dean retorted, a hearty laugh following as his shoulders seemed to relax. It was nice to have someone understand what he was going through with this problem but still be living in that fee and easy atmosphere he loved whenever he and Benny were screwing around. Even though neither of them really understood it either, it was still nice to be able to talk about it all.

The rest of their conversation was pretty laid back, only a few crude jokes being thrown in here and there. Some comparisons in dealing with their wards came out, but Dean could see the pleased expression on Benny's face whenever he talked about dealing with his pregnant angel. Apparently her name-as Benny had found out-was Angela. It was an appropriate, if not typical angelic name. Castiel wasn't exactly less saintly.

"So," Benny cheered, gulping on one of the beers he'd been offered, "Enough about my sex life, how's you and pretty boy going?"

"It's not." He grunted, taking a similar drink from his own bottle as they sat sprawled out over the sofa. "I got a hug though."

"A hug? Whoa now, slow down you pervert."

Dean pushed at the top of his friend's head, "Oh shut up."


End file.
